


what death feels like

by azurephan



Category: Phandom/The Fantastic Foursome (YouTube RPF)
Genre: Death, Hanahaki Disease, M/M, Sex, Temporary Character Death
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-09-15
Updated: 2019-11-04
Packaged: 2020-10-19 05:09:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 3
Words: 2,722
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20651720
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/azurephan/pseuds/azurephan
Summary: dan howell succesfully throws himself out of his apartment's balcony and dies, but gets up without a scratch.





	1. pilot

**Author's Note:**

> TW: THERE ARE MENTIONS OF SUICIDE SO PLEASE DON'T READ THIS IF YOU'RE SENSITIVE SINCE ALMOST THE WHOLE BOOK IS ABOUT DEATH!!! ty <3

Falling. Collapsing on the ground. Pain. The sweet relief on the muscles in the last seconds of my life, just like an orgasm.  
Hi. My name is Daniel Howell and on July 27th, 2018, I killed myself. But, unfortunately, I am still alive. At least I experience things like I am.  
I know how death feels like. I know the pain, and as of right now I also know a lot of things a human being is not supposed to know.  
No, I am not immortal. Immortals are just fiction, and even if they were real, they would never feel pain. Immortals don't die, they don't feel their body slowly become unusable. I did, and I remember every little detail of it.  
I have one lover. Phil. I don't think he loves me though. We've been living together for around 8-9 years and he treats me like a basic friend now. But he's the only person I talk to on a daily basis. I told him my plan a day before. He tried to stop me. Crying, begging me to not do it. Begging while sex, i hated it. But I had been waiting for that day for years, who was he to stop me? Even God couldn't stop me. Only if I knew what was going to happen, then I would stop. But I didn't. I did what I planned. It was summer, no one was in the apartment, it was just us. We could be as loud and naked as we wanted. It was good. There were no CCTV'S, no one could be able to see me. No one did see me, I really hope no one did. And if they did, I hope they keep silent.  
I had made Phil promise he would clean what's left of me after I died. No one was going to notice I was gone, it was pitch perfect. I got under Phil for the last time, said my goodbyes. As the clocks struck 12 am, I jumped out of our balcony to the backyard. I fell. I collapsed on the ground. I felt my bones break, my lungs struggle as I try to breathe but can't, my mouth filling up with blood, It was the most pain I'd ever felt. But it only lasted a few seconds. Then the sweet release of death came. But don't let the word sweet trick you. It was so scary. Not the 'being scared of death' scary though. The feeling of death itself was frightening. You forget everything, you are like a newborn. Defenseless. You can't move, and the feeling of you consciousness slowly drift away makes you dizzy and all.  
But I was happy, because this was the first and last time I felt these awful feelings. Then I would be dead. A dead body and nothing else.  
But then, I woke up. On the ground, in the same position as I was while I was busy losing my consciousness and giving my soul to the devils taking me to the afterlife. And I was fine. The pain was gone, my eyesight was as good as before and I could still hear clearly. I had Phil sitting right next to me, getting more and more frightened of me as I slowly stood up and looked at him. I didn't know what to do or say.  
"Am I alive?"  
I was. I was shocked. I didn't know what happened. Was this the afterlife? If it was, wouldn't I know? Wouldn't it feel different? I felt the same. ame body, same life... It wasn't supposed to be like this.  
Phil didn't say anything. Instead, he just called 911.  
"Hello? 911? My boyfriend fell out of a building and is alright. Is there an explantion for that? Can you send an ambulance? He's not supposed to be fine!"  
I heard the loud laughter coming through the other side of the ine. They didn't believe him. No one would believe him. It was kind of funny though, if you think about it. Someone just comes and tells you that someone fell from a really high place and is okay. Would you believe them? I didn't think so.  
Phil looked at me for a second, then broke down. He didn't say a word, he just cried on his knees shaking, right in front of me. I leaned in to touch his hand, but he crawled himself away.  
"Don't touch me! You're dead! You're not real, right? You can't be! I saw you fall, I saw you collapse! It can't be possible!" he sobbed. "I'm dreaming, right? You're long gone. And you're already fucking my dreams up. I miss you already, don't I?"  
I didn't know. And it looked like until I figured out, I was all on my own.


	2. suitcase

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> phil tries to cope with dan still being somehow alive.

It had been a day since the curse happened. I was calling it a curse, because it had ruined my whole routine of life. Phil wouldn't talk to me except giving me orders that wouldn't let me get one inch closer to him. He had made me sleep on the couch downstairs and he would leave a room as soon as I got in. It was getting tiring. I missed him, very much. I missed him naked. Forcing me to choke on his fingers, being rough and exteremely experimental with his moves in me.  
I walked in to the bathroom to brush my teeth. Phil was also brushing his teeth as i walked in, but this time, he didn't leave. He just told me to be quick and kept on doing what he was doing.   
The second he left the room, I wanted to lock myself in the room and never get out again. I had water, I would survive. He had never asked me to 'be quick', what was he planning? What was on his mind? Muder? Could be. With that state of mind after what happened the night before, he could kill me without hesitation. I didn't want to die again, I didn't want to watch my body as it went numb, I didn't want to have the same blood in my mouth again. Death, as a feeling, was definitely the last thing I wanted.  
But if I disobeyed him, wouldn't I just make it worse? It was just a door, it could easily be broken. He would torture me more, just for the fun of it. I had no choice but to get out.  
So I got out. At least ı was going to die with a fresh breath, unlike last time. But Phil was nowhere to be found. I had toured the whole apartment, but couldn't find a sign of his existence. It was like he had disappeared. Maybe he was getting his tools to kill me ready.  
"Phil?" I shouted as I got in his room for the second time. When I was 19, he had made a joke where he hid in a closet and made me think he was lost. I had never been scared for him in my life. Maybe my murder was going to be a throwback to that one joke, in the first day we moved in our first apartment. Maybe, the second I opened his closet, he was going to cut me open with the sharpest knife at home.  
The walk to the closet in his went on slow motion. I never thought his room was so big, but in that moment it was bigger than any room I'd ever been in. And when I opened the closet...  
He wasn't there.  
Instead I hear the door close. I looked back, and my lips met Phil's, just like his hands met my throat.  
If you met him, you would think he was a cinnamon bun. He was so nice to everyone and so soft. He would laugh at his own jokes, with his cute tongue sticking out while laughing. He would always hug me every morning, and sometimes we would even watch anime together.  
But in bed? Oh boy, you wouldn't want to know. First, he would pull my hair until we were both in bed. We would fuck whenever he wanted to, I never had the right to reject the invitation. I never wanted to reject the invitation. He would undress me way too fast, like a cheetah running for his next victim.  
"I know how to fix this," he mumbled underneath his heavy breathing.  
"Fix what?"  
"Us."  
He threw me onto the bed and started getting undressed. He was always so fast when it came to sex, but I had never seen him hurry this much just to fuck me.  
He got on me and started tearing whatever I was wearing. I looked and realized it was my favourite shirt.  
I put my hand on his chest, and he looked at me, sweaty and confused. A tear of his sweat dropped from his forehead on my nose. He wiped it off with his thumb, then put his hand on my right cheek.  
"It's my favourite shirt."  
I could see his face going from happy to disappointed really quickly. The muscles on his cheeks were getting harder and harder every milisecond, I could almost feel it.   
He got off me in less than a second. Then threw me his favourite jacket.  
"Leave. Now."  
I didn't realise what was happening. Leave? To where? And why?  
"What the fuck are you trying to say?" I murmured. He looked at me with tears in his eyes. His face had turned green, just like he was dying.  
"I said leave. And don't come back."  
Why would he say anything like that so suddenly? I was shocked by how quickly he decided to just let me go like that after being together for 9 years. I couldn't believe the fact that he didn't love me like he said he did. I couldn't believe no one in this world cared about me. I thought at least he did, but it was over too. I was nothing.  
I wasn't even able to gather my words together and say something. I just felt a sob coming. Did it even matter? Why would it, hadn't I killed myself without thinking about it at all, why would being loved suddenly matter so much?   
Next thing I knew, I was outside our apartment with a suitcase and his jacket. I didn't even know if I was ever gonna have a home again. I had never felt so sentimental and vulnerable since the first time I got called gay in first grade. And there I was. Sitting somewhere in London, surrounded by the memories.


	3. motel room

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Moshi moshi?" said an extremely sleepy PJ. I checked the clock, it was 6 am. Good thing was though, he had picked up.

That day was the longest day I had ever went through. Though I only remember only 2-3 hours of it, even that was more than enough. Everything and everyone looked so happy. Birds chirping, people talking and laughing... It was just too much. It wasn't fair. I wanted to get out of the city, and never come back. I just wanted to be in an isolated room with all lights off, and stay there for a good while. But sadly, I couldn't do any of those. Instead, I could do the thing that was closest to shutting myself off: drinking like mad until I black out. And I did.

I bought a pack of cigarettes on the way to the dark side of the city. "The Dark Side" was basically a district of London where all the weird and dangerous shit happened. It was the neighborhood that only broken, depressed people and criminals went to. I would actually only visit this place to feel better about myself, but today; I was going to be one of the bad boys. The ones that walked weirdly with vodka on one of their hand and drugs on the other.

I checked in a cheap motel that was close to the street with the best unknown bars, and left my almost empty suitcase under the bed. I wasn't really conscious when I was packing as I couldn't acknowledge what was happening, I didn't even know what was in that suitcase. I thought about leaving my phone too because I wanted to disconnect completely from the world and go crazy. But I took it with me. "Just in case," I thought. "Just in case he calls."

I reached out to my cigarette pack, only to realise I had emptied it in less than an hour. If Phil saw the empty pack, he would kill me. He hates seeing me smoke, he hates smoke in general. But he wasn’t with me anymore. So I bought another pack from a supermarket, then headed to the bars. And no matter how much I try, I still can’t remember what happened after.

I woke up in the motel all alone, with a headache worse than those demon k-pop fans and more money in my pocket than supposed to. It was still dark outside, or maybe just cloudy; but there was no light coming from behind the curtains whatsoever. I got out of the dusty old bed with an extremely disturbing creak, coming to the realisation that Phil still wasn't there. He hadn't called, texted, anything. He was gone. Maybe even forever.

I got my phone out of my pocket and started looking at my contacts. I couldn't live in a montel forever, I wouldn't. I needed somewhere else to stay until I earned enough money to move in to my own house. Not a home though, home would still be wherever Phil was.

I dialed PJ's phone knowing he would probably not pick up. PJ was a famous youtuber with over 1,000,000 subscribers. He was one of those people who was on youtube since the beginning. Me and Phil were too, until we had a big fight in 2012 that made me quit it. I was not in a state of making new videos then. I could've just taken a break for a whilethen come back out there, but I never found the inspiration to do so. And so does all of this apply for Phil.

We made up though. That was what kept me hopeful. We made it through one big fight, we could go through another. We were a power couple.

We would sometimes bump into people in the streets of London that used to watch us. We would talk for a few minutes, take some photos and they would let us go. But PJ, they "bump into him" all the time.

"Moshi moshi?" said an extremely sleepy PJ. I checked the clock, it was 6 am. Good thing was though, he had picked up.

"PJ!" I whispered, tears already making my vision blurry and all.

"Dan? Are you guys alright?"

"Can I stay at yours for a while?" My voice had cracked. He probably already knew that I was crying. I had just missed him so much but him saying you guys instead of just you had made me feel even more desperate.

"Dan, what happened?"

"We had a fight. Big time."

"Alright, I'm buying you the earliest train ticket to Brighton, either I or Sophie will pick you up. We will talk when you arrive, okay?"

PJ may have been the nicest person on earth. He would make sure you were having the time of your life when you were with him.

I had a quick look at the small motel room. Its wallpaper was somehow burnt, it was a shade of brown I had never seen in real life. The room was dusty, it was obvious no cleaning service had visited for a long time. There was a little window that looked at some cut trees and drunk guys threatening each other to burn each other out. There was no toilet and in the corner of the room was a cracked mirror.

I looked at the mirror, and saw some marks on my neck. "Maybe it's Phil," I thought. I really hoped it was Phil. My hair was all messed up and my lips were as red as cherry. This could only mean one thing: I had cheated on Phil. But that was okay, right? We were on a break.

I got my bag and left the weird room. After paying the mtoel owner, I headed to the closest train station.


End file.
